


Can't Win Unless You Lose

by runawaynun



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27500983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaynun/pseuds/runawaynun
Summary: After an attempt on Chrisjen's life, Bobbie disappears.
Relationships: Chrisjen Avasarala/Bobbie Draper
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49
Collections: Femslash Exchange 2020





	Can't Win Unless You Lose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Netgirl_y2k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Netgirl_y2k/gifts).



As soon she could, Bobbie fled from the state dinner. She could face down a whole squadron of Blues, could even go face the protomolecule again, but to be in a hall full of people who hated her guts and saw her as a traitor, it was exhausting and humiliating. She knew that Chrisjen thought she was helping her, but for someone with such a sharp political mind, she absolutely sucked at understanding how much further damage she had done to Bobbie’s reputation in front of the most powerful Martians.

And that was the most generous interpretation of events, she thought as she made her way up the steps toward the exit. Chrisjen could be using her only for her own cynical purposes, to hold her up as a good Martian who worked with Earth, like she wanted all of Mars to do.

“Not even a good bye?” Bobbie startled. She was so consumed with her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard Chrisjen come up the stairs behind her.

“You were busy,” Bobbie said, lamely. She wanted to get out of this place, put on some comfortable clothing and drink the feeling of this night away. She wanted to get away from Chrisjen before she said something she regretted and ruined their - whatever they had had. A few nights together on the Rocinante. 

Chrisjen stepped nearer to her. “You didn’t enjoy the sparkling dinner conversation?” she asked, sarcasm dripping in her voice.

“No. And you didn’t help.” Bobbie hated the way her voice was betraying her hurt feelings. “You were using me tonight. Playing some game that I don’t understand. It was humiliating!”

“I wasn’t trying to embarrass you. I wanted to see you.” 

“I had no place at that table!” How could she not see that? And - wait. Bobbie blinked and looked again. She most definitely was not imagining the red dot reflecting off the gold embroidery of Chrisjen’s dress. Pure combat reflexes kicked in. “Shit. Get down!” She tackled Chrisjen but not before she felt the bullet whiz by her.

“Fuck,” Chrisjen gasped as they both tumbled to the floor. Bobbie heard the muffled thud of both of Chrisjen’s bodyguards crumpling as bullets struck their heads. 

Bobbie didn’t have time to worry about the other woman. She needed to get them both to safety and quick. Considering the amount of security for this event, she didn’t know who to trust. “Can you move?” 

She saw Chrisjen take a quick mental inventory. She nodded and then winced in pain. “Something hit me,” she told Bobbie. Right. They’d deal with that once Bobbie had them safe. They must have fallen out of the sniper’s view or their gun was jammed. 

Bobbie could think of no other way to test her theories besides the dumbest way possible. She pulled both of Chrisjen’s heels off and threw one over the staircase. No shots. Either the gun was jammed or the sniper wasn’t an absolute moron.

“OK, ma’am, you are going to run to that corridor, as fast and low as possible,” Bobbie whispered. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Chrisjen’s eyes widened when she realized that Bobbie was possibly going to take a bullet meant for her. “Bobbie, no - “ she started.

“Do not argue with me. I’ll be right behind you.” And maybe it was a testament to the amount of pain Chrisjen was in - Bobbie could see a dark stain spreading over one of her shoulders - but she stopped arguing and nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Ready? One. Two. Three.” Bobbie threw Chrisjen’s remaining shoe in the opposite direction. “Go!”

It had to be the longest seconds in her life. Even longer than the few when she thought she was going to die in the Razorback or on Io. But somehow, they both made it into the corridor, both alive. Chrisjen clutched her shoulder as she ran, sliding around the corridor with nylon feet. Bobbie saw dark red splotches as she followed and knew she needed to get her medical attention. Chrisjen kept trying to get one of the many doors to open, as Bobbie kept looking over her shoulder for more threats.

Finally, one opened for Chrisjen. Bobbie followed her in the room. It looked like a basic conference room, a table and chairs and monitors. When the door hissed shut behind her, Bobbie shoved the table against it.

“You’re going to have to disable it,” Chrisjen said.

Bobbie looked around frantically until she found a fire extinguisher. Fire was a nightmare for a civilization that lived below ground with no breathable atmosphere above, so luckily almost every room was equipped with one just in case the fire suppressant sensors were knocked out or malfunctioning. She took it and smashed it against the control panel until she shattered the interface. Pulling pieces of the covering away, she pulled wires until she was satisfied no one could get in the room without physically forcing the door open. “OK. We should be safe here. At least long enough to take a look at your shoulder.”

Chrisjen sat heavily in one of the chairs. “Fuck.”

*

Chrisjen thought she really need to fucking stop leaving Earth. Every time she did, she ended up covered in blood. Although her last time in space may have saved her life tonight, since Bobbie saved her from the sniper. Maybe it was the shock and pain from her wound, but - “What a shitty sniper,” Chrisjen said.

Bobbie turned from the door where she was listening for sound from the hallway. She looked tired and worried. “You were incredibly lucky.” 

Chrisjen nodded and hissed as the motion caused pain to shoot down her shoulder. “Tell me you ever so resourceful Martians have medkits.”

Bobbie strode to where she found the fire extinguisher. “Of course we do. Never know when Earth could attack us.” After she retrieved it, she looked at Chrisjen’s shoulder. “Naturally, you’re wearing an impossible outfit.”

“Getting shot wasn’t on the agenda.”

“We’re going to have to get that coat off of you somehow. Can you get it off?” 

“Not with one arm. Help me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bobbie said deadpan. She reached out to undo the buttons. 

Chrisjen hissed as Bobbie pulled the sleeve off of her good shoulder. “If I had said ‘please’ would you have given me the fucking painkiller?”

Bobbie smiled tightly and jabbed the painkiller into Chrisjen’s bare shoulder. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she felt the pain immediately reduce. She looked at her injured shoulder. It was a mess of blood and very expensive fabric.

“I hate to tell you this, but I think the best way to treat your wound is going to be cutting this off,” Bobbie said, kneeling next to Chrisjen. She looked so worried. Chrisjen wanted to reassure her but before she could, Bobbie reached for the cutting tool in the medkit. “This is probably going to hurt.”

And it fucking did. Chrisjen could feel tears stinging her eyes as Bobbie methodically made her way through the jacket. She appreciated that Bobbie didn’t hesitate or try to make things easier. She supposed that if she had to get shot, at least Bobbie was here. When she pulled the last bit of fabric away from the wound, Chrisjen grasped the chair’s arm and gritted her teeth. 

Bobbie inspected the wound, Chrisjen’s blood staining her hands red. “It looks like a clean entrance and exit wound. I should be able to bandage it up until help comes.”

“Good. Good.” Damnit, why had she left her handheld with Diaz? She’d at least be able to be in contact with her people to know if there was help on the way. She turned her attention to Bobbie competently dressing her wound. When she finished, Chrisjen reached with her good hand and squeezed Bobbie’s fingers. “Thank you. For everything.”

Bobbie shifted her weight. “Of course.”

“And I’m sorry.”

“Now I know the painkillers were strong.” 

Chrisjen made a face. She was perfectly capable of apologizing when she was in the wrong. It just was rare that she was. “I’m sorry I put you on the spot tonight. I just wanted to show those idiots that you still had friends in high places and I misread the situation. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did.” Bobbie pulled away and started to pack up the medkit. 

Chrisjen knew that hurting those closest to her was the cost of gaining political power. But that didn’t make it any easier for her or them. “I promise I won’t do it again. In fact, I am never fucking leaving Earth again.”

That drew a genuine smile from Bobbie. “I’m happy to see you again.”

“I’ve missed you. It’s been awhile since someone told me the truth and not what they think I want to hear.”

“It’s been awhile since anyone’s seen me as anything but a traitor.”

Bobbie’s actions had saved Mars twice over and had saved the entire Sol System. Fucking arrogant Dusters. “Fuck them. If they can’t see how glorious you are, then they don’t deserve you.” 

Bobbie stared at Chrisjen who realized that she was wearing nothing but a pair of leather pants, a strapless bra and bandages. In normal circumstances, Chrisjen wouldn’t mind and would even encourage the Martian’s attention. But now, she was shivering. “Why is it always so fucking cold on this fucking planet?” 

“Shit.” Bobbie looked around the room. “I don’t see anything I can use as a blanket.”

Shock. Chrisjen remembered the last time she went into it, lying on the floor of a shuttle near Pallas in a pool of her own blood. She shuddered at the memory. She promised her family after that she’d have a nice, safe desk job. Turns out when you rise up the ladder of power, there is no such thing.

Bobbie looked at her, worried. “Are you still with me?” Chrisjen nodded. “OK. Let’s get you out of that chair and get you warm.” 

Bobbie helped her out of the chair. Chrisjen was surprised at how much her legs wobbled. Before joining her on the floor, she took off her blazer and put it around Chrisjen. Bobbie then wrapped her arms around the other woman, being careful of her wounded shoulder. Chrisjen nestled into her. They must look like refugees from a horror movie, wearing shockingly little clothing and covered in blood.

Chrisjen felt Bobbie lean her head atop hers. “I owe you an apology, too.”

“For what?”

“I’m sorry I haven’t answered any of your messages since I returned to Mars. You remind me of what I was. And I’m trying to accept what I am now. But I miss before so much and hearing from you - it just hurt.”

Chrisjen wished her fucking shoulder worked. She wanted to wrap her arms around Bobbie and drive her self-doubt away. She settled for words. “They’re fuckers, Bobbie, to make you feel small. You are everything you were before: strong, loyal, resourceful, magnificent. God, I wish everyone I worked with was half the person you are. It’d make my life so much easier.”

Bobbie said nothing but she pulled Chrisjen tighter to herself and even though she could feel a throb in her shoulder, Chrisjen welcomed it. If they survived this, they could build something. 

A bang came from the hallway, followed by the door being pried open. She could feel Bobbie tense against her. Chrisjen had hoped to meet her death in her own bed, surrounded by her family. She supposed that this might have to do. “Don’t get yourself fucking killed,” she told Bobbie.

Whatever Bobbie was about to reply got swallowed up by several what appeared to be MCRN officers charging into the room. “Roberta Draper?” asked the one who looked to be in charge. “You have to come with us.”

“What the fuck do you want with her?” Chrisjen asked.

The man ignored her. “You can come voluntarily or we can take you.”

Bobbie was already letting go of Chrisjen. If she had been at full strength, she would have tried to pull Bobbie back down. “It’ll be better if I go with them,” she told Chrisjen.

“Like hell,” Chrisjen addressed the officers. “Ms. Draper just saved my life and I’m the fucking Secretary General of the United Nations. You’re not taking her anywhere until you let me know where she’s going and she has a goddamn lawyer.”

One of the soldiers pulled Bobbie off the floor. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you have no authority on Mars. Draper is coming with us.”

“What about her? She’s hurt. Are you really going to let the Secretary General lie here injured with no help?” Bobbie asked.

“Her people will be here in a few minutes. If you do not leave voluntarily, we can make you.”

“Bobbie. Don’t get yourself killed.” 

“Fine. I’ll come with you.”

One of the soldiers placed a hood over Bobbie’s head and Chrisjen wondered if she should have let Bobbie fight. She’d probably much rather meet her death fighting. “Where are you taking her?” she yelled at the retreating backs of the soldiers. “Bobbie! I’ll find you!”

Chrisjen seethed as she sat on the floor. Right now, she didn’t have the strength to leverage herself up and she was furious. While waiting what seemed like several hours but was probably closer to five minutes, she tried to think of every bit of dirt she could use against various Martian officials. Her mind was sluggish and she was so tired. 

Finally, she recognized the head of her security, Green, as he entered the room. “Ma’am?”

“I’m fine.”

He knelt down next to her and checked the bandaging. “You’re not fine. You’re shot.” He spoke into his communication device. “Archangel in need of medical.”

“What I need is to see the goddamn Martian PM.”

Familiar with her drive to push herself to the point of exhaustion, he shook his head. “First you see a doctor.”

She knew he was right. She hated it. But her body was screaming at her that she needed to pause and heal. “Fine. But as soon as that’s done, I need to see the PM.” With that, Chrisjen gave into the demands of her body and passed out.

*

When the hood was pulled off of Bobbie’s head, she found herself in a standard interrogation room with two chairs and a long table. Her interrogator, a woman wearing a standard MCRN uniform with no rank insignia or name plate, sat across the table. She swallowed a focus drug pill. “Ms. Draper, what is your business with the UN Secretary General?”

Bobbie fought down the well-conditioned urge to obey the uniform. “I’m a Martian citizen. I want to know what you’re charging me with and I want a lawyer.”

“Ms. Draper why are you meeting with Chrisjen Avasarala.”

Bobbie looked at the mirrored walls. “I want to know who is asking me and why. Otherwise, since you’re not charging me with anything, I’m free to leave.” Bobbie stood up and went to the door. It was locked.

Her interrogator looked at her, eyes cold. “Return to your seat, Ms. Draper.”

“I’m no longer a soldier. I don’t take orders.”

“You are being held on an issue of planetary security, which gives the military jurisdiction and waves your right to an attorney under Section 4. Please, sit.”

Reluctantly, Bobbie returned to her seat. Section 4 hadn’t been invoked since the Vesta Blockade. “Section 4? We’re not under threat from Earth.”

The interrogator ignored her. “Why were you meeting with the UN Secretary General?”

Bobbie assessed the situation. Someone was most definitely watching this interrogation. She was willing to bet someone important if they were asking about Chrisjen and willing to piss Earth off. Perhaps even the people behind the sniper. “She invited me.” Bobbie shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her why.”

“Why were you meeting with the UN Secretary General?”

Bobbie pushed against the table. Bolted to the floor. She shifted in her chair. Not bolted. She could use this, if necessary. “I enjoy good food. Can’t say that the company was as good.”

“Why did she invite you?”

Bobbie shrugged. “I saved her life. That might have something to do with it. Saved it again tonight. Did you have anything to do with that?” Bobbie addressed that question to the mirrored wall.

Her interrogator ignored that gesture. “What happened in the Ring?”

“You can look up my testimony at my court martial. My story hasn’t changed.”

“What happened on Ganymede, Ms. Draper?”

Oh, no. Fuck that. Bobbie had enough. She endured a grueling evening, was shot at and still had Chrisjen’s blood on her hands. She was not going to relive the death of her firing team by the very people who had killed them. She stood up. “I’m done.”

“Ms. Draper -“ 

The rest of what her interrogator said was lost when Bobbie grabbed the chair and began to hammer it against the door. She turned her head to the mirrored wall. “I’m done with your questions. Let me out.” She heard the commotion of a team of guards assembling outside. When the door open, Bobbie struck one and then two of the guards with the chair before it was wrested out of her grip. Switching to her fists, she swung and heard the satisfying crunch of a broken nose, before there were too many of them and the hood slipped over her head again.

*

Against her doctor’s wishes, Chrisjen waited in the outer office of the Martian executive suite to meet with Nathaniel Smith, the Martian Prime Minister. She wore a navy pantsuit with wine-colored dupatta, her arm in a sling and the portable tissue regenerator attached to her shoulder. She wished for her familiar saris, if only for her shoulder to be less restricted, but more to impress the power of her position on the PM. Fucking Mars and its weak gravity. Anything with a skirt would make her look indecent.

She also knew that Smith was playing a stupid power game with her, making the leader of Earth wait on him. Normally, she’d leave the office with a few cutting remarks and make the fucking Duster come to her with apologies for the assassination attempt. But Bobbie’s disappearance after had made this even more urgent and she didn’t know if she had the time to get into a pissing contest with Smith. She could lose a little face and drink this awful chai, if it meant getting to Bobbie faster.

She was going to have to get Bobbie off this godforsaken rock, even if she had to drag the Martian away, kicking and screaming. To see how cruelly the Martians treated her at the dinner made her seethe, which was why she had pointed out Bobbie in her speech. She knew they had her breaking down Martian warships. What a fucking waste. She already could think of at least twenty different ways Bobbie would be useful to her.

And it wasn’t just because of those nights on the Rocinante, where grief and fear and attraction had pushed them closer together. It wasn’t just Bobbie’s uncanny ability to make Chrisjen come undone. She was sharp and strong and ambitious. She had everything she needed to become a great leader, but Mars let her molder. Chrisjen regretted that her duties had not allowed to reach out to Bobbie more, but she’d remedy that, as soon as she found out where she was.

Smith’s assistant interrupted her train of thought. “Ma’am, the PM will see you now.” She huffed her irritation and shoved her mug into his hands.

She entered Smith’s office and noticed that despite the fresh suit, his looked like he had slept even less than her. Perhaps her wait wasn’t a power play. “Madam Secretary,” he strode toward her, shaking her hand. “Allow me to express my and the entire planet’s apologies for the incident last night. I’m pleased that you came through it unscathed. Please, have a seat.”

She sat in one of the chairs before his desk. It was an unusual position for her, in that she was usually the one running the meetings. “An incident? Is that what Martians call an assassination attempt and the cold-blooded murder of two of my security guards?” 

Before she could go on, Smith interrupted her. “We’re looking into the incident, but unfortunately cannot share any information with the UN at this time.”

Fuck that. “Bullshit,” Chrisjen replied, deadly calm. 

“I’m sorry. It’s a matter of planetary security.”

Chrisjen ignored him. “Where’s Bobbie Draper?”

“It’s a matter of -“

“Fuck that. That woman has saved my life twice, saved Mars twice. You don’t get to disappear her down some dark hole.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a statement of fact. You know I can make your job an absolute hell, Nathaniel. I can break off trade talks or worse after the attempt on my life.”

Smith sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He reached under his desk and pressed something. “I only have a few minutes before they realize the feed is paused. It wasn’t about you.”

That meant it had to be about Bobbie. What did Bobbie know that was so important to the military? “And Draper?”

“The military.”

“How high up?”

“High.”

“All the way to the top?”

“No. That’s all I can tell you. My party has been slowly trying to exert more civilian control over the military but it’s hard.”

Chrisjen nodded. “Thank you.”

Smith nodded and a pressed the button under his desk again. “You’ll find the might of the Martian military more than a match for your forces, Madam Secretary.”

“We’ll see,” she said, standing up. “I hope for both of our sakes that the military will be more forthcoming with you in the future.”

She made her way quickly out of the Prime Minister’s offices. When she was surrounded by her security, she pulled out her handheld. “Kim. When I get back to the embassy, have all the information we on Errinwright and the Eros incident.”

*

Bobbie woke up in a cell slightly larger than the standard, with a toilet and a sink. Someone had removed the tattered remains of the outfit she wore to the state dinner and put her in a standard prison jumpsuit. The idea that someone had done that while she was unconscious made her shudder. She stood up from the bench and pounded her hand against the glass door. “Hey! Let me out!” She didn’t expect it to work but hoped it would at least bring guards so she could assess what security was like here. After several minutes, no guards emerged. Either there was no one available to guard her or no one cared about her demands.

She sat on the bench. When she looked in the left-hand corner, she found a camera. She was tempted to start yelling at it again, but knew they had already heard everything from before. Frustrated, tired and hungry, she gave it the middle finger.

Someone would have to report her missing. Even if Chrisjen - she didn’t want to think about that. Chrisjen Avasarala would need much more than a bullet to her shoulder to take her down; the woman was a universal force, like the sun’s gravitational pull. Benji or David would have to notice her missing after a few days. Unless they sent them a fake message from her.

She rolled her eyes at herself. Thinking like that wouldn’t help her at all. In order to distract herself, she began to alternate between push up and sit ups. She couldn’t do as many as she had when she was in the service, between the hours of her job and her brother’s cramped quarters, she had to severely curtail her workout time. See assholes, she thought. You locked me up but you’re helping me get back in shape.

Finally, her arms shaking, she crawled back on the bench and laid down. Staring at the ceiling, she tried to figure out why she was here. The questions didn’t seem like they were trying to pin the assassination attempt on her. Besides, Chrisjen would never let that happen. Her interrogator tried to ascertain her relationship with the Earther. Not that Bobbie had an idea.

They had grown closer during their time in space until after one particularly frustrating video message from the UN, Chrisjen had shoved Bobbie against the walls of their quarters, stood on her tiptoes and kissed Bobbie hard. They slept together several times on the journey to Luna, but communication grew sporadic with Chrisjen as Secretary General and Bobbie on her way to the Ring. 

That fucking Ring where her life fell apart. Oshi still visited her in her nightmares, neck crooked and shocked that Bobbie killed her. On the Rocinante sunward, she ignored every message that Chrisjen sent her, justifying herself that she was avoiding temptation to run to Earth. After her court martial and discharge, she continued to ignore the other woman’s few messages, ashamed at how low she had fallen.

She couldn’t deny that even through her humiliation at the dinner, it had been good to see Chrisjen. Even better to hold her in arms, although she wished it had been in any other circumstances. And her words had been a soothing balm after the ostracization she endured on Mars. 

But this was not going to get her out of the cell.

The questions not about Chrisjen had been about the Ring Gates and Ganymede. Besides her being the only member of her team to survive, the connection was the protomolecule. Bobbie sat up. Of course. Someone must think that she had information about the protomolecule that she was sharing with Chrisjen. They couldn’t fathom that the two of them could be friends, so she must be hiding something vitally important from Mars.

She walked over to the camera. “Fine. I’ll talk. But only to whoever is in charge here. And I’d like a fucking sandwich.”

Within minutes, a guard brought a tray of food. “He’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bobbie nodded. She ate her peanut butter sandwich and wondered how she could tell this man that she knew no more than he did about the protomolecule.

*

Chrisjen was fucking sick of Martians keeping her waiting. And since she was waiting for the Admiral with a fucking bunch of letters after her rank that proved to Martians that she was in charge of the military, Chrisjen didn’t even get the luxury of a bad cup of coffee. It was nothing but austerity and discipline at Martian Navy headquarters. She wished she had put on a few more bracelets just to annoy her baby-sitter who was making sure she didn’t snoop in whatever classified nonsense was in the Admiral’s antechamber.

Finally, the door to the Admiral’s office opened and several other officers of what looked to be high rank filed out. Interesting. Perhaps her efforts to find Bobbie had riled up the Martian military. One of the lower ranking Admirals turned to speak, but Peñano interrupted before Chrisjen could find out what he wanted. “Madam Secretary,” she said. “It’s good to see you.” They had met before, on Earth, when working out the peace agreement after the firefight on Ganymede.

It was late and Chrisjen could feel her patience thinning by the second. “I wish this was under better circumstances.”

The Admiral ushered her into her office. “Please, sit.”

“No. I do not expect this to take long.”

“Your choice,” Peñano took a seat behind her desk. “How can I help you?” 

Chrisjen suspected that the Admiral’s patience was stretched as thin as hers and cut through all the typical bullshit a meeting between powerful people seemed to need. “Bobbie Draper. Where do you have her?”

“I’m sorry. That’s a matter of planetary security.”

Chrisjen’s patience snapped. “Bullshit.”

“Madam Secretary, you seem to be under the impression that you are on Earth and not Mars. You may have absolute authority back home, but you do not have it here.”

“Then I’ll have to go to the press with what I know.”

“Good luck with that, ma’am. Bobbie Draper is a traitor to Mars and most of its citizens would care less about her disappearance than they do about the latest Londres Nova FC results.”

“Not if they know what I know.” Chrisjen was going to give the woman one last chance before she used what she found in the files Kim sent her. She almost hoped that Peñano would continue to stonewall her so she could watch the smug look on the Admiral’s face leave.

Peñano gave Chrisjen a condescending smile. “I’m sure the UN Secretary General giving a teary interview about how the traitor saved her life would really endear her to Martians. No, I’m afraid that I’ve done all I can do for you.”

Chrisjen pressed a button on her handhold. A recording started playing:

_“I’ve received the biological data you’ve sent about Defense Minister Korshunov,”_ the voice of Sadavir Errinwright said.

_“Good,”_ Admiral Peñano’s voice replied. Chrisjen saw the flesh and blood Admiral in front of her blanche. She didn’t try to hide her smirk. _“I trust you’ll use it at an advantageous time.”_

_“Of course,”_ Errinwright replied. _“I’m curious, though. What do you get out Korshunov’s death?”_

_“Korshunov’s been a pain in the ass and aiding the PM’s attempts to cut our budget. With him out of the way - “_

Chrisjen stopped the playback. “That was fucking stupid, Admiral.”

The Admiral swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

“I want no MCRN opposition to the peace treaty, Callisto to return to a joint MCRN and UNN base and a joint informal effort to keep an eye on the OPA. I also want Bobbie Draper freed and unharmed and able to do whatever the fuck she wants.”

“I can try - “

“Don’t try. Do.” Chrisjen sauntered to the door, her previous tiredness forgotten in the rush of victory. Before she opened the door, she turned back to the Admiral. “And give Draper her fucking pension.” With that, she exited.

*

Bobbie was having trouble processing the last few hours. Her guards woke her up from the doze she’d fallen into and told her that she was free to go. Of course, not exactly free. She had the hood put back on her head until she was dropped into the largest station in Londres Nova. She ducked into a nearby dive bar, where her prison jumpsuit hadn’t stood out as much, and contemplated over a beer what she wanted to do next. 

It had only been a delaying tactic. There really wasn’t a question in her mind about who got her released. She contacted Chrisjen on the private, encrypted line she had given her when they had parted on the Rocinante.

Chrisjen answered quickly, her hair down around her shoulders. “Bobbie! Thank goodness! I was worried.”

It was so good to see her. She had been worried, too, that the bullet had done more damage than she thought or that even Chrisjen couldn’t work her way through the politics of Mars. She broke out into what had to be a large, goofy grin. “It’s so good to see you.” Chrisjen responded with her own genuine smile, Bobbie noted. She took a deep breath and beat down the last of her doubts. “Can I come see you?”

Chrisjen’s smile became wider than Bobbie had ever seen. “Of course. I’ll let security know you’re coming.”

The subway ride to the UN’s Embassy was both the longest and shortest of Bobbie’s life. She didn’t even care about the stares she received. Once again, she was leaving Mars for Earth, as the embassy was seen as sovereign Earth territory. This time though, there was anticipation instead of fear because she knew the woman on the other side.

Then she was in the Embassy’s residency, standing in front of Chrisjen Avasarala, who was wearing pants and blouse, her hair down and her heels off. She’s so small, Bobbie thought, rather uselessly. She didn’t quite know what to do.

Luckily, Chrisjen didn’t have that problem. She crossed the distance between the two of them and threw her arms around Bobbie. Bobbie pulled her as close as she could with only the barest thought about her injured shoulder. She didn’t need to worry because Chrisjen was clutching her like Bobbie was the only thing preventing her from being sucked into the vacuum of space. They held on to each other, finding comfort in each other’s presence, slowly relaxing into the embrace.

Chrisjen pulled away far enough to lift her face toward Bobbie. Bobbie brought her hands up to frame her face and leaned in to kiss her. The kiss began slowly, reacquainting to each other, lips brushing against each other. Then Chrisjen groaned and pulled Bobbie closer to her. They kissed again and again, reverently, deeply. But when Bobbie brought her hands to unbutton Chrisjen’s blouse, she pulled away.

She took Bobbie’s hands in her own. “We need to talk. We’ve been making assumptions and jumping to conclusions and they’re all wrong.” She pulled Bobbie to the couch and sat next to her, not touching but close. “I am never going to look down on you for what you do with your life. I may argue with you and we may disagree, but I am so proud to know you and have you in my life. And I do want you in my life. I meant everything I said, tyou are magnificent and fuck everyone who doesn’t see that.”

Bobbie felt a weight come off of her shoulders. She had bought into Mars’ narrative about her, even as she was fighting it. “I want you in my life, too, Chrisjen. And not just because you’re the only person who could rescue me from all of this. Despite the mask you put on to the world, you are so incredibly kind and loving, and it’s an honor to be able to see that side of you.”

Chrisjen smiled. “Come and work for me.”

Of all the things she could have said, this was the last thing Bobbie expected. “Ma’am, Chrisjen - “

“Don’t even think it’s out of pity or a sense of obligation. Would I have survived this long if I hired someone out of fucking pity?”

“No. But why?”

“Because I am trying to protect the universe from the protomolecule and I am going to have to campaign for this goddamn job. I need competent people I can trust. I need you, Bobbie.”

Bobbie was completely conflicted. She was a loyal daughter of Mars despite what everyone thought. She couldn’t imagine leaving her family and her home. But if the past few days had taught her anything, her home may not be safe. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course. I do have a more immediate job for you,” Chrisjen said as she moved to sit in Bobbie’s lap and wrapped her arms around her neck.

“Oh?” 

“Take me to bed,” Chrisjen murmured against Bobbie’s lips before kissing her. 

*

Chrisjen woke up freezing cold. This damn rock. Luckily, she had a nice warm Martian in bed with her. She rolled over and tucked herself into Bobbie, laying her head on her chest. She felt Bobbie’s arms come around her and relaxed into her embrace. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Just thinking. I think there’s something dangerous happening here with the protomolecule and the military.”

Chrisjen nodded.

“I think I’ll take your job offer. I don’t know how safe Mars is for me anymore and you can provide me resources I don’t have access to by myself.”

“Good.” Chrisjen pressed a kiss to Bobbie’s shoulder. “Now get some sleep while you fucking can.” And as she nodded off, warm and happy, she hoped Bobbie would take her advice.


End file.
